A little story about my  Alberta producers, Sean and Rick. About 15 years ago, I was introduced  to them by an exec who worked at Porchlight Entertainment. Porchlight  specialized in family entertainment. 
An  agent had set up a meeting for me with Sean and Rick and apparently we  were going in to pitch a project that Sean and Rick had.  Great, I  thought. We met with Joe, the exec, in the boardroom and talked about  the story, a family that gets lost in the woods, and it looked like we  had a deal.
I  stepped out for a coffee and as I stood in their little lunchroom I  heard Joe talking to someone on the phone in his office, he was alone.  He was talking about the movie we just pitched and then said these  words; 
"And  we're getting a Canadian writer to write it for free." 
What?
Stunned?  Yes, I was never told this by Sean or Rick. So what do I do?
I  waited as our meeting was pretty much over anyways and then as we walked  back to our cars, I confronted them. To add insult to injury they said,  yes it was for free. But I wasn't told this, otherwise I wouldn't have  even taken the meeting.
They  both acted hurt, said they got me a job and I didn't want it and that  all they were doing was trying to help. Let me say this about that; I  wouldn't be able to count the number of times someone has asked me to  write for free. Dozens. No, hundreds. Really.
I think  producers often think writing a script is like writing a get well card.  I left them uncertain and went home.
Later, I  thought about it and figured this; it was an easy script to write, I  could do it in a few weeks if I had to; and it was almost Christmas and the  town would be closed for at least 3 weeks. I also had another card to  play.
I wrote the script in 3  weeks and sent it to them. They loved it. No doubt because it didn't  cost them anything. They flew down in the new year and we met Joe again.  Joe was happy too. But not for long.
Then I  asked them to option it. They stared at each other, uncertain and then  Sean the smooth one said they couldn't possibly do that, they had no  money.
To  which I replied that it's all right.
I'll  just keep the script and hand it over to my agent who would shop it  around to someone who could option it. Family scripts aren't hard to  sell.
They stared again. But  how could I do that? Wasn't it their script?
No.
Sean  and Rick had sent me a contract over Christmas but I never signed it.
The  script was mine. Totally for sure, eh?
Two  weeks later I got a new contract and an option fee of $2500. The film  was eventually never made but I at least squeezed some money from them.
And now  they held the option to Emperor of Mars and I couldn't help wondering  if they still had some resentment towards me. But I did include them in  the commercial pilot's attempt to do Emperor albeit a failure, I still  gave them a shot to make a pile of money. I'm a good guy, I wanted to  share.
And  besides, once again, nobody else was offering a dime. I learned a long  time ago that holding out never worked for me, others seem to do it  effortlessly, but not me. I say no and they never come back.
Except  when I really don't want to do something. I've had a few offers to  rewrite screenplays that were awful and I just didn't want to do it  because I knew it would be a stressful and horrible experience  comparable to that TV series I blogged about a few months ago. And that  cost me hand surgery and 3 back surgeries.
My only  concern was that I wasn't sure they could raise $5 million in spite of  Sean's enthusiasm, the only film they totally financed was about $1.5  million, the other movies they made were almost totally financed by  American networks and/or studios.
Someone  once said that if we just worked with people we liked, nobody would  ever make a movie again. 
So let the games begin.
(Mon: Up/Down)
